


Sinner

by neutralhumanbody



Category: Silence (2016)
Genre: AU- Modern, Catholic Guilt, Catholicism, Church Sex, Confessional, Confessions, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other, Public Humiliation, Semi-Public Sex, Verbal Humiliation, implied vagina, no pronouns for reader, they both finish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neutralhumanbody/pseuds/neutralhumanbody
Summary: You were raised Catholic, but you hadn't been to church in a long time. The priest is a little too interested in your confessions.
Relationships: Francisco Garupe/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> This is a modern-AU style Father Garupe (Silence [2016]) fic. 
> 
> Please, mind the tags!

“Bless me, Father. For I have sinned.”

“Tell me, how long has it been?” The voice on the other side of the screen spoke.

“It’s been, um.” You took a few seconds to think back. “Years. I’m not sure how many.”

You were boxed in, a thin wall separating you from this strange man. You hadn’t been to church in a while, far too long to bring up. Parts of the catholic church always made you uncomfortable, especially this part. Confessing your deepest, darkest secrets to a stranger that you had been instructed to look up to by your community was at the very least terrifying. Even if you didn’t believe as much as you used to, you still had a natural inclination to respect the Father’s of the church. You always thought of them as they had always been presented to you- humble servants of God and pure individuals who wanted nothing but to spread the good word. 

A lot had been going on in your life and the traditions of the catholic church just tasted so good at the moment. There was comfort in the way the church would accept you back in at any given moment and provide confession to any person. 

It was early. Even too early for the local seniors to flood in for the first mass of the morning. The sun hadn’t risen yet, only allowing a small bit of light to shine through the stained glass windows, a rainbow of colors splayed over the stone floors. 

This was the church you grew up going to. It had been years but something called you back and they had to accept you with open arms, right?

To your dismay, you didn’t recognize any of the priests. They were all different now.

“What would you like to confess?” His voice was deep, but speaking in the tone of a younger man. 

“I’ve had dark thoughts lately.” Your throat felt dry.

You immediately regretted this. You didn’t expect a new priest, a younger priest, or to have this motivation to suddenly confess. Especially these confessions.

“You may proceed. I’ll guide you.” He said with conviction. 

You thought it was his attempt to be comforting, his rough voice was a far cry from solace for most but it happened to be what you needed. You let out a sigh.

“I’ve had dark, sexual thoughts. A lot has been going on in my life and I felt very self conscious of my thoughts suddenly. Confession was the first thing that made sense.” You said.

You felt the tension in your shoulders decrease. The freedom of this admittance was a new feeling again, even when you went to church so long ago, you rarely went to confession. 

There was a silence on the other side. The screen did its job, only allowing you to make out his profile. A roman nose with a broad brow ridge. His hair was longer than you were used to seeing in the diocese. There were rarely younger priests and they most likely allowed him to get away with something so frivolous because he was a rarity. The gentle waves of his hair barely grazed his collar, most likely pushing the limits of what they would allow.

He cleared his throat.

“Would you like to be more specific?” 

You wondered if he was supposed to ask that. A pang of interest hit your heart. Here you were, attempting to reclaim your good catholic past by confessing as an adult, and you were still suffering from perverted thoughts. Perverted thoughts about a priest. 

“Sometimes I imagine being used by people, in the worst ways.” You said, briefly. 

Typically, priests were stoic and unmoving. They seemed reliable in that way. You saw the silhouette of this young priest raking a hand through his thick hair. A moment that seemed unlike any other to you. Why was he more human than the others?

It was hard to make out individual features, but you could see him shifting around. 

“Do the priests ever sin?” You said quietly.

“Of course. We are all sinners, we must all repent.” He said as his arms and hands fidgeted around his lap. 

He wasn’t in his stole, you could recognize his overwhelming size and broad shoulders. 

“You imagine being used?” His seethed the last word, as you heard metal clinking. 

You felt yourself flush, mind lingering on the sound. 

“Uh, yes.” You fumbled. “Sexually used.”

“Tell me about that. It’ll help me determine your penance.” He muttered, head tilting up.

You felt like you suddenly couldn’t think of a single thing. All you could do was focus on the sound of his pants unzipping and the shuffling of fabric. There was a stir, deep in your stomach. 

“I like to think of a big, strong guy taking me somewhere and just having his way with me.” You struggled getting the words out, touching honesty. 

“Having his way with you? You like when men are rough with you?” He growled. 

“Father, I-” You started.

“No. Tell me.” He demanded. 

Your hands were balled into fists, digging into your thighs. The temptation swelled inside you, causing your heart to beat deeper and faster. You wished the screen could disappear and you could lay eyes upon the priest who was doing these things to you, making you feel yourself grow wet.

“I do like it. Sometimes I want it rougher and rougher. I wish someone would hurt me.” You admitted.

“Repentance and redemption is always possible.” He breathed out, sounds of skin against skin erupting from the other side of the booth. 

“Do you need to repent too, Father?” Your thighs rubbed together, attempting to resist your own feelings.

A small laugh escaped him, sandwiched between heavy breaths.

You appreciated that this was a confessional with a full door, shutting out the rest of the church. It was still early morning, so no one would be there regardless. No one would be able to watch you unbuttoning your jeans and gently sliding a hand inside them. 

Just hearing the rummaging in his pants set you off. You always fantasized about things like this- meeting a charming man and fucking him. But this wasn’t fucking, you were touching yourself listening to him jack off. All you could see was shapes of him and his waves slowly moving with however he tilted his head, but you wanted more.

“Tell me,” He spoke again. “Are your little holes getting wet while you confess to me?”

Those words sent you over the edge in an instant. Fingers gliding over yourself, imaging him pumping his member. 

“Yes.” You whispered, cheeks hot in response.

“Yes, what?” He was nearly growling.

“Yes, Father.” You moaned. 

He stood up, now all you could see of him was how imposing he was. You stopped touching, waiting.

“Stay.” He said.

You nodded, mostly to yourself. He left his side of the confessional causing the daylight to pour in for a moment before shutting the door. 

You debated re-buttoning your jeans, fixing your hair, and never returning to the church again. He still didn’t know what you looked like and you could slip out to door and get breakfast like it was any other day. Not having been to church in so long, none of the priests knew who you were, you really could just leave.

The pit in your stomach weighed you down enough to make you stay. You’d probably never talk to that priest again and you weren’t sure if that’s what you really wanted. 

There was indistinct talking in the distance as you waited. It had only been around a minute, but it felt like a whole day. Your mind raced and ran in circles trying to imagine what was going on.

The confessional door opened again, this time on your side.

You blushed the moment you laid eyes on him. He wasn’t just a tall, broad man- he was beautiful. Unable to manage a hello, you just stared at him with wide eyes. The priest was dark and ominous, looking you over. His jaw clenched as he shut the door behind him and locked it, confining you both in the small space.

“Is this really what you want?” He muttered, glancing around.

You nodded, your gaze refusing to leave him. 

He looked like he was going to burst at the seams. You assumed that being so young for a priest, he hadn’t been with many people romantically. He could see all the wonder in your eyes as you analyzed his face. 

“You think you get to say such filthy things without me using that cute mouth of yours?” He smirked, looking down at you. 

Before you could speak, he started unbuckling his belt. His hands were shaking so much, it took him a few tries before he could get his zipper down. You marveled at how such an intimidating figure could tremble in response to you. 

He held his cock in hand, already dripping with precum. You expected it to be big, but not that big. The head swelled pink, wanting one thing.

“You really are a desperate little thing, aren’t you? You came back to the church for the first time in years to truly confess?” He asked, fist gliding over his cock. 

He gestured to your clothes, “Take that shit off.” 

He watched and jerked himself as you undressed. The faces he made amazed you, jaw clenched tightly and eyes twitching when he finally saw your soft skin. Letting clothes fall to the floor, you left your panties on. You could already feel yourself grow wetter with every word, look, and stroke. 

“Get on your knees.” He managed to growl between breaths. 

You complied, his length now at eye level. Nervously lifting a hand to his cock, you looked to him for assurance. 

“No touching. Just your mouth, for now.” He nodded at you.

You opened your mouth, letting your tongue fall out. Your eyes pleaded with him to take what he wanted, to use you completely. You knew this type of man- the type of man you would do any depraved thing for, the type of man you wished wasn’t a priest. 

He hooked his thumb in your mouth, pulling your mouth open even wider. His cock throbbed in his hand watching you look debased before him, on your knees. He gripped himself even harder when he noticed your eyes watering and wincing from being hooked. 

He slid himself into your mouth. He felt a lot bigger than he looked, you gagged when it nearly hit the back of your throat. You struggled to regain your bearings, tears falling from your eyes. His other hand grabbed onto your hair, pulling you back so he could see your face clearly as he fucked it. 

He pumped in and out of your mouth, groaning. You made sure to use your tongue to slide against him as he did, earning stifled moans. 

“Do you really want me to have my way with you?” He grunted, pulling out of your mouth. 

He grabbed you up off the floor as soon as he saw you about to say ‘yes’. Pushing you onto the bench, on your knees, tugging your panties down. Your most intimate places suddenly exposed, you felt the need to speak up.

“Father, I like this. A lot. I like you.” You blushed, refusing to look back at him. 

You thought maybe in a different life, you and him could have met in a more conventional way. Maybe you and him could have gone on a date. All of his was shattered by the venomous look in his eyes. 

“Oh, you like me, little one? You’ll never be able to get rid of me after this.” He let out a laugh before grabbing your ass so hard it made you jump. 

“I do like you! You’re really attractive.” You gasped, becoming more depraved by the minute.

“Listen to yourself. Lusting after your priest like a slut.” His hand made its way down to your opening.

His fingers began to touch the slick wetness gathering between your thighs. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. You wanted to beg him to do whatever he wanted- but you had to be quiet. This was still a church and there were other priests here. A fingertip ran over your clit, preparing you, begging you to let out a moan.

When he slid his cock inside you, you really thought you felt God. 

He wasted no time. He immediately started slamming into you, taking you from behind like he was a predator. You were close to slamming your head into the wall from how hard he was thrusting. Hitting the extent of your center, you squealed. 

“Fa-! Father!!” You said, realizing you didn’t even know his name. 

“You’re gonna want to keep your voice down.” The priest’s hand snaked over your mouth, “Anyone could hear you. I don’t want them to discover what a perverted little thing you are, getting fucked in a church.” 

His fingers dug into your cheek while he continued to pump into you. The sheer size of him was enough to split you in half, but there was more power in him than expected. It was an energy that had been pent up for what was possibly years. His other hand pressed against the curve of your lower back. Grunts escaped him with every thrust, your legs starting to wobble and shake. 

“I’m about to fucking cum.” He groaned out, his thrusts getting even harder. 

His hand was still clasped over your mouth, keeping you silent. Your moans were muffled behind his fingers. You could tell he was close, even in such a primal state. You were reaching your peak, being fucked so long and deep by a big cock was pushing you to the edge. You had to let go, you allowed all your muscles to relax at your core. 

His final thrusts drove through your limits, causing you to release all over his cock. Feeling it, he slammed into you one last time before pulling out. His hand quickly gripped his cock, pumping it quickly while cumming all over your ass. The hot, thick mess was spread all over you as he looked you over. 

You felt your panties being yanked back up- he was redressing you. His release would be all over you for the rest of the day, sticking to your clothes.

Once you were able to get your jeans back on, you looked at his face. He was distraught and beautiful. Strands of his hair fell in front of his face, his eyes glaring at you. 

Before you could say a word, he kissed you.

His large hand pressed against your face, kissing you deeper than you’d ever felt. Lips begging to part, he held back. You realized the act he had committed shortly before must have been in the heat of passion, without much thought. This kiss was much more careful, not allowing himself to explore your mouth.

“My name is Francisco Garupe. I’m here every morning.” He spoke with urgency, as if it was all hitting him just now. 

“I’ll come back.” You whispered.

His eyes didn’t look guilty, they looked relieved. It was like he had finally had a true revelation. 

He left the confessional without another word.


End file.
